


dead kittens

by candybank



Series: these are the best days of your life [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, art major minghao, nude model mingyu, other members mentioned - Freeform, pesky roommates soonyoung and wonwoo, side meanie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/candybank
Summary: minghao needs to pass his Human Anatomy for Figurative Artists course and mingyu wants to get into modeling.(or: you have his number. ask him out. get drinks. fuck.)





	dead kittens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xiao8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiao8/gifts).



> hi, wrote this for my furry friend miss meg<3
> 
> im not a furry but i really enjoyed writing this, it kindof got me out of my writers block. not really sure what this is tbh its trashy but i hope u like reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

a ten-page-minimum portfolio of sketches detailing the male physique sounded easy enough when minghao’s Human Anatomy for Figurative Artists professor handed out the assignment two weeks ago, but as he tacks on an ad for ‘Model, Male’—’will be used as reference for art assignment to complete Human Anatomy for Figurative Artists course, call xx-xxx-xxx-xxx’ in small gray print at the bottom—onto his dorm’s bulletin board, he heaves a heavy sigh.

confident that he would be able to finish the assignment in three days max, he’d spent all his time on an oil painting of the moon meeting the sea for another class. barely a week away from the deadline of his portfolio, with nothing to show for it besides an empty sketchbook, he’s not feeling so hot. in his defense, he posted ads as soon as the project was announced, but the only person who contacted him about it was his roommate, soonyoung, who seemed more interested in seeing minghao naked above anything else.

it’s 11:57 at night, and he’s tucked into bed scrolling through google images results of ‘men nude model art project’, when his phone rings. unregistered number on the screen. feeling a little spooked, he lets it ring for a while as he grabs his jacket and steps outside into the hallway.

“hello?”

“hi, i’m, um,” the guy on the other end coughs and clears his throat, “i saw your— i’m calling about the, uh, model art assignment thing…? is this the right number?”

“oh,” minghao lights up, “yeah, yeah, yeah. thanks for calling,” he can’t help the relieved sigh that comes out of him, “i was getting kind of desperate about it, it’s due in about a week and finding a model is really hard.”

the guy on the other end chuckles awkwardly.

“anyway, i’m minghao. i’m a painting major. what about you?”

“my name’s mingyu,” the phone talks back, “... i’m an engineering major.”

“oh, wow,” minghao responds, to which he gets another nervous chuckle back. “so, uh—yeah. shit, thanks for saving my ass, mingyu. which floor are you on?”

“third.”

“i’m on the fifth. hey, i’d love to meet you before we get to it so i can tell you more about the project and what you have to do. we could grab a coffee now, or…”

“oh… no, i can’t, i have a test to work through tonight, but… i’m free after four tomorrow?”

“great,” minghao says, “how about that coffee shop by the gym?”

“sure, yeah, sounds awesome.”

“alright, i’ll see you then. thanks again!”

“okay, bye.”

it’s only when the line goes dead that minghao remembers to hope for a model halfway easy to draw.

 

***

 

minghao is hunched over his ipad, doodling an astronaut and a spaceship onto a larger doodle of the milky way, when an “excuse me” forces him to look up. he tears his eyes from his screen and finds a boy with orange hair smiling at him. the first thing he notices about this boy is his canine teeth; they’re too sharp and long for a human, minghao thinks—he would describe them as dog teeth, which he thinks is fitting because this guy is giving him the biggest rottweiler energy ever.

dog-boy is handsome, he notices, too. he’s tall and handsome and athletic, and minghao has no idea what he wants, so he looks behind him and around him to see if dog-boy might be talking to someone else.

dog-boy laughs. “i’m— i’m mingyu,” he says, “we spoke on the phone last night…? about the art thing—”

“oh,” minghao chimes in recognition, suddenly feeling as if his tongue’s been shoved down his throat. he coughs and removes his bag from the chair across the table. “hey, hi.”

“hey. sorry, my professor let us out a little late. i came as fast as i could,” mingyu says, sitting down, all friendly smile and polite eyes. and minghao notices that he sounds a lot different than he did on the phone. if he’s being honest, minghao had expected a lanky kid with huge glasses and a t-square on his back bigger than his entire body—not the twenty-first century korean rendition of the vitruvian man. mingyu’s arms are so muscular that they look as if they’re about to rip the sleeves of his white shirt—too small and fitted too well to his broad shoulders and big chest. he looks like he eats protein shakes for breakfast and dumbbells for dinner, and minghao doesn’t realize he’s staring until he realizes he’s staring.

“right,” he clears his throat, pulling out a notebook from his bag for no goddamn reason besides to have an excuse to look away from mingyu. “so, i didn’t give too many details about the project on the ad because i didn’t ‘wanna spook any potential models, but it’s basically a nude model job…?” the statement come out like a question, “we’re supposed to make a portfolio of the male anatomy based on… well, a real human male so— but you won’t be nude the whole time, though! like, we can just do sections first. i’m thinking arm on one page, hand on the next, you know. we can leave the full body drawing and things like that last, if that’s better for you. um,” minghao chuckles, “i know this is kind of a lot. if you’re not comfortable with it, you can still back out—oh, and i’ll pay you, of course,” but the words leave his mouth too desperate and hopeful.

he wonders if that’s why mingyu laughs, or if he laughs because he’s feeling awkward and put-off. “no, no, yeah, i—” mingyu pauses, eyes on the table, as if trying to gather his thoughts. he looks like he could crush someone’s skull against a wall with his elbow if he wanted to, but he opens his mouth, voice soft and words unsure, and he sounds like he couldn’t even kill a fly.  “my roommate does this all the time,” he continues, “i mean, he models for these kinds of projects. he majors in art too, i’m not sure what but, jeon wonwoo, if you know him…”

“oh, yeah, i think we had art history together in freshman year.”

“oh, cool,” mingyu chuckles, sounding just as aloof and nervous now as he did on the phone, “so, yeah, i’ve been looking into modeling recently. and wonwoo’s been modeling for a while now, local stuff, you know, and so i asked him and he said this is a good place to start. so… i’m— i’m cool with anything.”

minghao smiles, taking a moment to feel relieved and charmed. “that’s great. i’m kind of in a time crunch here, though, so, i was thinking three days this week, two hours tops, and all day saturday and sunday…?” he pitches boldly, worrying his lip as he looks up at mingyu.

“sure,” mingyu answers far too easily, nodding, “my week’s not that busy so—we could go four hours for three days this week, if you need to.”

“you’re a life saver,” he tells mingyu as he jots down their schedule on a piece of paper, and he doesn’t miss the way mingyu lights up when he hears it, “seriously.”

 

***

 

it’s a warm tuesday afternoon when they meet for their first session. mingyu comes in black slacks and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up, hair gelled and forehead a little sweaty, and minghao feels his stomach turn inside out.

“looking fancy,” he teases, setting up his sketchpad and his pencils.

mingyu laughs as he puts down his bag and sits on the chair opposite minghao. “i had a presentation in class today,” he explains, “so, uh, where… how do you, uh, want me…?” he looks around, as if unsure what to do with his arms or even where to place his gaze.

minghao presses his lips and looks at mingyu for a moment, gaze deep and pensive as it travels from the top of mingyu’s head to the slope of his shoulders to the curve of his arms, down the belt around his waist and the slacks tight around his thighs and the tips of his shoes.

“we can just do hands and arms today,” minghao says decisively, “could you take off your shirt?”

mingyu does so without question, minghao’s eyes fixated on his fingers as they undo the buttons of his shirt. he convinces himself that it’s for science. still, he doesn’t know if he should be thankful or disappointed that mingyu’s wearing a sleeveless shirt underneath.

 

***

 

the next day is back and torso, and minghao spends so much time daydreaming about painting skies and oceans across mingyu’s skin, so much time daydreaming and laughing at mingyu’s jokes and messing up his drawings that they end up clocking out after five hours and a half.

“shit, it’s dark,” minghao comments when they step outside, the number of stars in the sky catching him off guard. “sorry i kept you so long.”

“it’s fine,” mingyu replies, “i don’t have any plans today, anyway.”

minghao puts his hand over his stomach when he hears it grumble. mingyu must hear it too, because he looks to minghao’s tummy and laughs.

“hungry?”

“yeah, actually. do you wanna get dinner? my treat. for making you stay so late.”

mingyu, not one to turn down free food, he nods. “yeah—yeah, sure. thanks. you can tell me more about your roommate who wants to see you naked,” he jokes, laughing. minghao rolls his eyes and walks ahead, stuffing his hands into his pockets and going on another rant about soonyoung forgetting to dry his clothes.

 

***

 

mingyu is easy to talk to. he talks more and more and more, becoming less and less awkward the more time they spend together, like he’s comfortable now, and minghao thinks it’s endearing. between quick strokes and easy conversation, legs and feet day passes quickly.

“do you want to go for dinner?” minghao asks as he’s packing up his pencils and mingyu is pulling up his pants.

“no, not tonight,” mingyu answers, “i could go for a beer, though.”

“sure,” minghao answers, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

it’s chilly for a summer afternoon, and so the walk to the bar is a lot of small talk about the weather and listing off friends and interests they might have in common.

“no way, i can’t believe you’re friends with jellyfish jun,” mingyu laughs, all cracked up as they enter the bar. he calls for a beer, downs it in four easy gulps, and makes fun of minghao for ordering a tiny bottle of wine. minghao rolls his eyes at him, but he can’t help chuckling. mingyu’s laugh is boisterous and loud, especially after he gets a buzz going, his happiness infectious, and minghao lets himself be dragged to the noise.

“why do you call him that?” he asks curiously, and mingyu has to take several seconds to stop himself from laughing to regain his composure.

“okay,” mingyu starts, “we went on this outing with a bunch of friends. rented a house by the sea, private beach, the whole thing. so, we go into the water, right? and someone discovers a bunch of jellyfish by this cave nearby. so, we’re like, oh fuck yeah, jellyfish. so, we go there, but we’re careful, right? because it’s jellyfish, man, they sting you. but jun, crazy motherfucker, he jumps right into the water and starts swimming with them. and at first, we’re like, dude, what the fuuuck, get the fuck out of there! but he swims around for a few minutes and it’s totally fine. but one ends up stinging him, obviously. so, he gets out of the water,” mingyu pauses to laugh, his little dog teeth peeking from behind his lips, and minghao, invested in the story, he can’t help mirroring mingyu’s smile, “and he’s like, fuck, i got fucking stung,” mingyu can’t stop laughing, “and someone says— they say they read online that you gotta pee on a jellyfish sting to make it go away. so—” mingyu pauses to laugh again, throwing his head back and breathing heavy. knowing where the story’s headed, minghao can’t help laughing along.

“... did someone really pee on him?” minghao asks.

mingyu just about loses it. “ _yeah_ ,” he squeaks out in between laughter that has become just silent eyes, open mouth and half-moon eyes. he takes a huge inhale and thoughtlessly grabs minghao’s knee for dear life, as if to steady himself, as if he’ll float away if he laughs anymore.

his hand leaves minghao’s knee only when he has to use it to wipe his tears away. “so, anyway,” he clears his throat, coming down from the laughing fit, “yeah, that’s why we call him that. fucking jellyfish jun.”

mingyu lets out the last of his chuckles, and minghao thinks about painting the sky on his chest. the sea on his back. his face the sun, bright and radiant.

 

***

 

minghao is in the library bright and early the next day. seven-thirty with the sun still low, a pile of history books in hand for a paper he forgot to write. he’s halfway through a sixteenth of his work when he gets distracted by the orange head of hair in front of him. he squints, tries to makeout the broad shoulders hunched over, the gray shirt fitted to skin.

he leans forward and taps the boy’s shoulder with a pencil.

the boy turns around, revealed to be a grumpy looking mingyu with shades on his eyes and drool on his chin. he hastily wipes it away, expression easing when he sees minghao.

“oh, hey, hao,” he greets, whispering.

“why are you whispering?” minghao chuckles.

“we’re in the library,” mingyu says, as if the answer is obvious.

“what’s with the…” minghao motions vaguely towards the shades.

mingyu takes a moment to decode. “oh, these. yeah, i have a— i have a little bit of a”—inaudibly, he mouths—” _hangover_.”

“you just had two beers last night.”

“yeah, but me and my roommate drank when i got back and i had an essay to finish so…”

“oh,” minghao mouths understandingly, wanting to laugh at the cracks in mingyu’s voice.

“yeah. i’m gonna go back to sleep now, if you don’t mind. i have a seven-a.m. class.”

“it’s seven-forty,” minghao says, to which mingyu replies with a finger to his pursed lips and a head laid on folded arms.

minghao laughs to himself, and drags his gaze back to his laptop screen and book pages. orange always in his peripheral vision, always just a little bit distracting.

 

***

 

the weekend comes quickly. minghao rents out jeonghan’s studio for the whole day after mingyu says he can stay from nine-to-five. wear something comfortable, minghao had texted him that morning, feeling a little creeped out by his own message; mingyu had replied with a single thumbs-up emoji, which somehow made minghao feel better.

mingyu comes twenty minutes late in jeans, a black t-shirt and a plain pair of old sneakers. his orange hair still looks a little shower-damp, tiny splashes of water droplets scattered along his collar, and something white smudged in his chest area that minghao quickly suspects to be toothpaste.

he looks like he hasn’t even combed his hair, like he left his keys inside his car and tripped on the way over, and minghao thinks it’s charming. mingyu is speed walking from the doorway, apologetic smile on his face, and minghao thinks of freezing time so he can draw mingyu the way he is at that moment, or take a picture of it.

a little bit of a mess, still something nice to look at.

“sorry i’m late,” mingyu rubs the back of his head the way cute boys do so they can get away with murder, and minghao wonders if he knows what he’s doing. “i, uh,” he pauses, thinking to how he’d spent so much of the morning in the bathroom, yelling at wonwoo from the other side of the door,

( _“i’ve never done this before, wonu…”_

_“i know but you DON’T have to shave your balls.”_

_“what, so i’m just ‘gonna LET him draw me WITH HAIRY BALLS?!”_

_“STOP TALKING TO ME ABOUT YOUR BALLS AND GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM!"_ )

mingyu clears his throat, “woke up late.”

it sounds like a lie, but minghao doesn’t pry.

“it’s okay,” he says with a smile, crossing one leg over the other and opening his sketchbook. “so, we’re doing full-body today, is that okay?”

“yeah, yeah,” mingyu nods, looking around, “where do you want me?” he asks, because he hasn’t been in this big of a studio before, and they’ve only ever done it with him sitting down, half-clothed.

“hmm,” minghao looks around, observing the way the sunlight falls over the open space, seeping in through the frosted glass, bright but not blinding, “can i have you against that wall?” minghao says, pointing to a blank gray wall to the left of the room. “i was thinking of doing you from the back first.”

mingyu nods, still a little awkward when he pulls his shirt off over his head and his pants off of his legs. he’s totally undressed save the clean white boxers that he’d washed the night before when he walks to minghao by the wall.

“um,” he stutters awkwardly. minghao looks towards him and nods gently.

“if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to—”

“no, no, it’s okay,” mingyu assures him, not entirely sure himself, but there’s a want that pushes him. the quiet, empty space helps. minghao looking at him with kind, patient eyes helps. in a heartbeat, he finds himself completely naked. awkwardly, he picks up his boxers and folds them neatly, puts them down on a chair with the rest of his clothes.

minghao walks over to fix his pose, and as minghao adjusts his arms and his shoulders, he closes his eyes. mingyu thinks of dead kittens and dead puppies, roadkill rats and dissected frogs so the cold air nipping at his skin and minghao’s warm fingertips won’t flip the switch that’ll make all his blood rush south.

knowing how sensitive his own body can be, he’d talked about it with wonwoo the night before. he’d asked how do i not get a boner when someone’s staring at me while i’m completely naked, and wonwoo had laughed at him, told him, unless you’re an exhibitionist or something, you’re not supposed to get turned on. mingyu had laughed nervously, and wonwoo had eyed him suspiciously. it’s okay to get hard, it’s happened to me before, i had a super hot artist draw me one time and it was basically inevitable, wonwoo had shared unhelpfully, we fucked but that was inevitable too, but artists know how to deal with it, they won’t make a whole thing out of it.

besides, wonwoo had said, i’ve seen you, definitely top five. and mingyu had stared at him, incredulous, said, how many have you seen…?! to which wonwoo had replied with a vague laugh.

he hates that he’s thinking of this now, with his hands behind his head and his muscles all flexed, back towards minghao, because now all he’s thinking about is wonwoo complimenting his dick and there are so many things that get mingyu going—but at the top of the list is  compliments. and now he’s wondering if he really is that big or if wonwoo was lying to him, he wonders if minghao might think so, and when he thinks of asking minghao about it, cute painting major minghao with his squeaky little laughs and his crooked little smile and his funny eyerolls and funnier stories, a dangerous warmth starts pooling at the pit of his stomach.

“ _deadkittensdeadkittensdeadkittens_ ,” mingyu whispers to himself, eyes shut tight.

“what’s that?” minghao asks, his voice doing nothing for the hard-on threatening mingyu’s dick.

“n-nothing,” he replies weakly.

“you doing alright? do you need a break?” minghao asks, voice soft, and mingyu has to take a field trip into what a dead cat’s rotting intestine might look like so he doesn’t come right then and there.

“no, i’m good, i’m good,” he assures minghao, feeling sweat drip down the side of his head.

“okay,” minghao replies, “just tell me if you need a break.”

they take a break about an hour later, and minghao is thoughtful enough to bring mingyu a bathrobe. mingyu says it’s soft and fluffy over cups of water and packets of dry biscuits, and minghao says he stole it from a hotel long ago.

“you’re okay, right?” minghao asks for the hundredth time that day, “i mean, if you’re uncomfortable at any time, tell me, please. we can stop whenever you want.”

mingyu dry swallows a piece of biscuit and tries not to think about the struggle he’d gone through trying not to get an erection. he smiles, “i’m good,” he says, thinking he’ll be better at being naked tomorrow, wondering if minghao’s being nice on purpose because he knows it gets mingyu’s dick hard—far fetched, he thinks to himself, they don’t know each other _that_ well, his brain’s just foggy, “i’m good.”

 

***

 

mingyu spends the whole night psyching himself up for the next day. front-full-body day. it would have been nice to get some more advice from wonwoo, but his roommate doesn’t return at all. and so, at one in the morning, he takes off his boxers, lays on top of his covers, and decides to stare at the ceiling completely naked.

he falls asleep like that and he doesn’t even notice. when he wakes up the next day, the first thing he sees is wonwoo, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him.

“morning, starfish,” wonwoo says, the grin on his face almost suspicious, “had a good dream?”

“huh?” mingyu replies, rubbing his eyes, completely disoriented.

wonwoo points at something, and when mingyu figures out what he’s pointing at, he panics, hands flying to cover himself up.

“oh, relax,” wonwoo pats his thigh, laughing, clearly enjoying himself, “it’s nothing i haven’t seen before. do you want me to take care of it for you?” he looks at mingyu with an eyebrow raised, and mingyu looks back with eyebrows furrowed.

“but you… you and j—”

“whatever,” wonwoo waves his hand dismissively. “so do you want me to or not?”

mingyu pauses, swallows a thick lump in his throat. suddenly, his body feels like it’s on fire, and he lets hell drag him down. he throws his head back against the pillow, puts his arm over his eyes as he nods.

he doesn’t have to look to see the grin on wonwoo’s face, but he does muster up the energy to look to see his roommate’s lips wrapped around his dick.

mingyu fucks wonwoo’s mouth, comes down his throat, eats a bowl of cereal, takes a shower, then rushes to the studio to meet minghao.

 

***

 

“just do me,” minghao reads the text on mingyu’s nike spoof shirt when he walks in. he laughs, and mingyu laughs with him, saying it was a birthday gift.

“creative,” minghao chuckles. the light conversation makes mingyu feel less awkward about being completely naked in front of a virtual stranger. bathed in sunlight, everything hanging out and about.

minghao says tell me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, tell me if you need a break. he sits on his chair and draws his drawings, and he doesn’t say anything about the almost-boner mingyu gets almost-twice.

“we’re all done,” minghao says as the sun goes down, the words like music to mingyu’s ears. he gets dressed a little too fast, but if minghao notices, he says nothing about it.

“can i treat you to dinner? or a drink? you know, just to thank you for everything. i literally would have failed this class without you,” minghao says, bag slung over his shoulder.

“uh, i mean, you don’t have to but, sure. sure, thanks,” mingyu answers, grateful that the awkwardness dissipates quickly.

 

***

 

“he has the biggest fucking dick i’ve ever seen, soonie,” minghao says, still incredulous, over chinese takeout and overdue projects. the memory of it makes him laugh, and so does the pout on soonyoung’s face.

“you couldn’t have taken a picture?” soonyoung whines.

“what do you mean? i _drew_ it!”

“yeah, _flaccid_ ,” soonyoung spits the word in disgust, a piece of rice flying out of his mouth onto minghao’s arm, “and a drawing for your art class isn’t the same thing. the artsy interpretation makes the subject lose it’s allure.”

“...it’s a dick, soonyoung. you have one too. just take off your pants and look in the mirror.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” soonyoung elbows him playfully, to which minghao responds with a shove and a disgusted, “get the fuck away from me.”

soonyoung laughs. he gets off of the floor to fetch a soda from the mini freezer. “so, go out with him,” he says breezily, and minghao will never know how he can just _say_ these things.

“what?”

“you have his number. ask him out. get drinks. fuck.”

“shut up,” minghao returns weakly, which makes soonyoung laugh again.

“you totally want it,” soonyoung counters with a shrug, “and he didn’t have two boners for no reason. you’re probably thinking about making finger paintings up his ass or something, aren’t you?”

“ _what_? what does that even mean? you’re disgusting,” minghao leans away and shoves soonyoung when he tries to lean in closer, fixing his eyes on the piece of chicken he’s trying to pick up with his chopsticks and trying not to think about making a universe out of mingyu’s body and a little bit of paint.

 

***

 

it’s three knocks on the door on an uneventful wednesday night that forces minghao into his first study break of the day. soonyoung refuses to answer the door, so, begrudgingly, minghao drags himself away from the mess of paint and newspapers and canvas on the floor to open it.

he looks a little like a murderer, with paint all over his hands and his clothes and his face. it’s the kind of red that washes off in the sink, but still, the dark bags under his eyes and the messy hair doesn’t make him look the least bit welcoming.

“can i h— oh, hey, mingyu,” he straightens up and manages a smile, “what brings you up here?”

mingyu answers with a confused face and an awkward laugh. “you, uh,” he pulls out his phone, and scrolls to something, “you asked me to come…?”

“what?”

mingyu shows him the text. ‘come to my room 5c’ the text says, with an eggplant emoji that minghao never uses. he narrows his eyes at the text before putting two and two together. he turns to soonyoung to glare, but his roommate already has two thumbs held up. minghao gives back a sincere middle finger.

minding the mess on the floor, minghao steps outside to talk to mingyu in the hallway.

“sorry about that, my roommate’s messing with me,” minghao says.

“oh, so you... _didn’t_ want me to come up?”

minghao makes the mistake of looking up at mingyu when he asks the question. there’s something about the big puppy dog eyes and the soft voice that makes him happy to see him, makes him say,

“no, it’s alright. since you’re already here,” minghao laughs, glancing at his watch, surprised to see the time, “oh, fuck me, is that the time--do you wanna grab dinner? i haven’t eaten all day.”

“oh, yeah, sure,” mingyu nods, “my treat.”

“alright,” minghao says, “just let me go change.”

 

***

 

_you have his number. ask him out. get drinks. fuck._

minghao tries not to listen to the soonyoung-shaped devil on his shoulder shouting in his ear to down three shots of tequila and try to take mingyu home. instead, he focuses on the band performing on stage. the sad song, the nice voice, the off-tune guitar. he fixes his eyes on a puddle of splashed lemonade on the bartop, and nearly jumps when someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

“hey,” mingyu says, “sorry i took a while. there was a line.”

“it’s okay,” minghao smiles, feeling compelled to burn his voice off of his throat by downing his entire margarita in one gulp. he paces himself, and sips, and sips, and sucks on the popsicle drowning in his drink, and sips. in hindsight, he knows he should have just gotten a glass of wine.

mingyu drinks his beer like water, eyes on the stage, clapping for the performers. “they were pretty bad,” mingyu says to minghao with a small laugh, which makes minghao laugh too, because he has never heard mingyu say anything bad about anything.

“yeah, guitar was off tune,” minghao comments. clearly buzzed, mingyu laughs again.

“oh, shit, that’s ji,” mingyu lights up as the next band comes up on stage. he puts his fingers to his mouth and wolf-whistles, and minghao squirms a little in his chair at the sight of it. “whoo!” mingyu cheers loudly, “let’s go, josh!” he laughs, and the vocalist of the band setting up on stage waves back at him.

“your friend?” minghao prompts.

“yeah. we go way back. they’re really good. i didn’t know they were playing tonight. lucky we came,” mingyu finishes his beer and orders another, and the band plays through more drinks and smiling commentary. the crowd loves them, and though the music is a little too slow for minghao’s taste, he claps for them when they finish their set.

discreetly, minghao orders another bloody mary.

“whoa there,” mingyu says, laughing, “take it easy, hao. i thought you still wanted to get pizza.”

“pizza tastes better when you’re drunk, right?” minghao jokes.

“yeah, if you like vomit flavor, i guess,” mingyu laughs, blinking at minghao, “you… wanna get drunk?”

minghao pauses for a beat, thinking of tiny devil soonyoung on his shoulder and handsome dog-boy mingyu sitting not one foot away from him, and how it’s only ten p.m. far too early to trick his brain into thinking that mingyu _doesn’t_ have the biggest dick he’s ever seen and that the only thing between them is four layers of clothing and inhibition.

he thinks of how he hasn’t been laid in nearly half a year, and the half-finished project on his dorm room floor, and his half-written papers due last week, and he nods. “yeah,” minghao laughs weakly, “yeah, mingyu. i want to get really fucking drunk.”

mingyu cheers, orders ten shots of vodka, and minghao doesn’t remember much after that.

 

***

 

his mouth tastes like garbage and his brain feels like mush when he rolls over in bed and presses the button on his alarm clock. except, the alarm clock doesn’t stop buzzing, and the button is softer than it usually is. minghao presses again, but the buzzing doesn’t stop, and his head feels like it’s going to explode so he opens his eyes and finds that he’s been pressing on a nipple all along. in his defense, it’s shaped like a button. when he looks up to see whose it is, mingyu’s sleepy-stirring-awake-lips-pursed-eyes-shut-tight face greets him.

he looks like a baby bird opening its eyes to the sun for the first time, and minghao feels the overwhelming need to grab a yellow pen and put this moment down on a piece of paper. but his arms feel sluggish and his elbows feel dislocated, so he settles for staring at mingyu.

“what’re you doing?” mingyu slurs out, words barely comprehensible.

“i thought you were my alarm clock,” minghao answers, voice just as sleepy.

mingyu laughs a croaky, tired little laugh that makes minghao want to kiss him.

he doesn’t, if only because he still can’t move. instead, he stays completely still, and stares at the blue bedsheets and naked mingyu through half-lidded eyes.

it takes minghao all of thirty seconds to come to his senses and fully realize that _mingyu_ is _naked_. he checks himself for signs of nudity and finds that he has no shirt. when he looks down at the covers, he finds that they both have nothing on. it’s a slow realization that creeps past resting brain cells, like sunlight through frosted glass, like air past a heavy curtain.

“oh, shit,” minghao yawns, “did we…”

mingyu answers with a snore, having fallen back asleep. minghao lets him rest, looks around to realize that this isn’t his bed and this isn’t his dorm room. but those are his clothes strewn across the floor, and that might be his vomit by the door. as he pulls on his boxers and his shirt and his jeans, a soreness returns to his hips and his arms and his thighs. just how much fucking they’d done the night before, he can’t remember at all. all he knows now is how tired he feels, how bad his hangover is about to be, and how he wants coffee in his bloodstream instead of blood.

“mingyu,” he shakes mingyu awake gently, hand on sleeping beauty’s hip. minghao leans down to speak softly in his ear, “i’m getting coffee, do you want some?”

mingyu stirs awake again after a few seconds, mumbling something minghao can’t understand. his eyes are still closed and he still looks half-asleep, so minghao is caught off guard when he leans in closer and captures his lips in a bitter kiss.

mingyu chuckles when he pulls away, cheeky. “coffee sounds nice, hao,” he says, nodding.

and just because he can, minghao leans down to plant a kiss on his arm, on his chest, on his cheek. “okay. be right back,” he says, leaving his jacket at the foot of the bed as a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> no actual smut here(sorry) but i could totally write it out if u want!!!lmk if u would like to see it
> 
> i wanna uh continue this fic probably heheh


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